Track 3 - “1”

One winter night, I performed for musicians from the university at a party held by the professor.

Since I was told I could play any piece, I decided on Liszt’s transcendental etude, “No. 3, Sposalizio”. The composition had a tone that was somewhat tender and gentle, so it blended nicely with the ambiance of the venue.

Among the audience surrounding the piano, within the fancily dressed crowd, was Frederick.

Before I knew it, our eyes met.

Those green eyes were, without a doubt, looking at me. And I looked back.

For a quick moment, it was like we were one.

Outside the window, it was snowing. I wished the steadily piling snow would conceal just me and Frederick. I wanted to hide away from the world, and play the piano.

“Paysage” was originally the title of the third piece. Within the score, Liszt left behind pastoral notes and annotations. Imagine something like a rural landscape.

What colors are there? Is there green, like Frederick’s eyes?

I wanted him to listen, so I played the piano with as much tenderness and sincerity as he did… Though I couldn’t quite grasp what those feelings were… I played.

Like Frederick…

Just like Frederick…

Sounding like Frederick…

When I finished, cheers and applause quickly broke out.

Something bubbled up in my heart. It was warm like lava, harboring magma within it.

When I stood up and left, the professor handed me a champagne glass.

“It really was the right decision to bring you here. Good changes are happening, Kuguri. It seems like you’ve gotten out of your mother’s influence.”

Unable to take a sip from the drink I’d received, I stayed silent until I heard a commotion somewhere. When I looked, I saw Solomon—drunk and stumbling—had taken a seat at the piano bench I had just left. The professor headed towards him with a sigh.

Solomon ignored the confused looks around him, began to play.

A distinct, bell sounding melody.

“La Campanella”, a piece everyone had gotten bored of hearing… One of Liszt’s signature pieces.

But it wasn’t the famous final draft. It was a different version, one that people never play.

—It still heavily adopted Paganini’s violin style, and was a very difficult and harsh piece.

In truth, it’s not a piece that’s easily played. Yet Solomon was masterfully playing it, and looked like he was having fun. He swayed his body, like he was dancing. Especially during the more difficult parts, he cackled loudly.

“The more drunk he gets, the more his fingers fly.”

I was surprised when I heard someone speak from beside me. When I turned, I saw it was Frederick. He smiled a little.

“Your tempo rubato¹ was wonderful, Kuguri.”

He said my name. And praised my piano playing.

It caught me so off guard I almost fainted.

He held out a hand, and I shook it. I was so nervous I couldn’t even sense his touch.

His fingers.

The ones that could play such beautiful melodies, were still touching me.

—I was just copying you, Frederick.

Is what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t form the words.

“…Speaking of Liszt, you always bring his transcendental etudes. That’s what I heard from the professor. I also heard you were going to compete in tomorrow’s competition in Europe…”

“Yeah.”

“Oh really,” Frederick had said. “I’m in it too.”

I knew that.

“What pieces are you planning to play?”

Tomorrow’s competition was pretty flexible, and would be held in a country far from here. It’s not the most prestigious thing, but since it was recently created it quickly attracted attention. So, a lot of young pianists join the competition to warm up and gain experience.

“Transcendental Etudes.”

“The third movement?”

“Yeah.” I answered.

He definitely asked about the version because of Solomon’s unusual music choice. No musician would ever try to bring any version other than the third of that piece to a competition.

“I see. I’m not really the biggest fan of pieces that focus on technique.”

I knew that too.

His piano playing created scenery, images, and breathtaking things that spoke to the heart. It didn’t focus on technique.

“But if it’s you that’s playing Liszt, I want to hear the fourth piece. Mazeppa. I really like the part in the middle.” Frederick said, turning towards me.

“If it’s you, then you might even be able to master the second version, which people say is impossible for anyone to play but Liszt, right? Just like how you played it earlier, with emotion. Someday, I’d like to hear it.”

He started to walk as he spoke.

I wondered if it would be alright to follow him. I thought it had to be, so I walked half a step behind him.

While stepping outside onto the hotel balcony, snow fell onto his long eyelashes. Snowflakes fluttered down into the glass in my hand and melted.

The snow blocked out all other noise, creating a serene atmosphere.

It was like the two of us… were hiding in the snow.

“Haha, it’s chilly.”

Frederick’s subtle smile was dazzling. The streetlights shone brightly against the white snow and reflected onto his figure.

Um, Frederick. At the competition tomorrow, I’m going to play Mazeppa. Will you listen?

…If you want, I’ll practice the second version too. Once I’m able to play it, will you listen…?

Is what I wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out.

I could listen to Frederick’s music at the competition tomorrow. Just thinking about it made my heart swell.

I wanted to hear it already. That sound. The sound that filled every fiber of my being. Frederick’s music.

“What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“…It’s at seven.”

“Really? Mine is at six.”

I was supposed to have taken the flight at six. I secretly felt a bit disappointed.

Stepping across the snow piled on the balcony, Frederick walked closer to me.

He pulled out his phone and said, “Let’s exchange contact info.”

“I’ll be waiting for you to get to the airport.”

He gestured for us to re-enter the venue together. I forgot that I’d been standing in the cold snow.

“If we stay then we’ll catch a cold, and then we’ll both miss the competition.” Frederick said with a smile after we finished swapping information.

When we returned to the venue, Frederick brushed the snow off my shoulders and hair. His long, beautiful fingers caught my eye.

“Tomorrow. Call me. I’ll be waiting at the airport.”

He smiled. I think I smiled back.

Tomorrow, we’ll definitely get closer.

That’s what I thought.

We waved to each other, then parted ways. I watched his back fade into the distance for a while.

That was the last time I saw him.